


Bonds of Affection

by gaealynn



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Light BDSM, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Under-negotiated Kink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-29
Updated: 2017-03-29
Packaged: 2018-10-12 09:13:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10487337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaealynn/pseuds/gaealynn
Summary: All this talk (like, a week ago, which is.. forever ago on tumblr) of how much Anakin would like a little BDSM has gotten me thinking.I propose – an Obi-Wan who indulges one of Anakin’s tantrums and is startled to find that he, ah, doesn’t quite mind letting Anakin tie him up and dote on him; and an Anakin who is over the moon at being allowed to do so.





	

**Author's Note:**

> (Warning: Features an unreliable Drama Queen as a narrator, poor Obi-Wan failing to avoid eating Anakin’s cooking, and the two of them entering into light bondage/dom/sub play [that will eventually turn sexual] without ever having any actual discussions about it beforehand.)

The first time it happens, it’s just Obi-Wan indulging Anakin. They’re both tired, stressed, and overworked -- not to mention frustrated at being grounded due to ‘administrative matters’ when they should be with their men in the field. Anakin in particular is having a hard time of it, having taken several heavy losses recently. And to top it all off, Padme isn’t even on Coruscant just then, which means he‘s trapped in the Temple without anyone to re-direct his frustrated motherhenning instincts towards. 

... except Obi-Wan. 

Who is, Anakin is realizing with some horror, _not_ good at taking care of himself. He’s… _pretty_ sure it wasn’t this bad when he was still Obi-Wan’s padawan? … but, truth be told, even before being Knighted, he hadn’t spent much of their rare time on Coruscant in the Temple -- he had Padme to see! So he’s… he’s just not sure how long this has been going on. 

The problem is this: they’ve been back in the Temple for two days and he’s not sure Obi-Wan has actually eaten a full meal - he keeps putting plates into Obi-Wan’s hands, assuming everything is good, only to later find said plate abandoned on a side table, scarcely a few bites missing. And if Obi-Wan has slept more than a handful of hours since they touched down, Anakin will eat his own utility belt - instead, Obi-Wan has had upwards of fourteen hours in meetings, taught several classes, and, apparently, almost caught up on a backlog of Council reports. 

It’s -- not okay. And _nobody else seems to care_. This is Anakin’s _Master_ , one of the greatest -- probably _the_ greatest -- Jedi in the Order, and apparently it’s just _fine_ with everyone else that he’s working himself to death, walking around looking like barely warmed bantha poodoo, as if nobody else can take care of all of these stupid little details, like _reports_ could ever possibly matter more than _his Master_??? 

He tries to settle it reasonably. Really! 

“Obi-Wan-- don’t you think you ought to use this time in the Temple to rest up? Before we get sent back out?” He asks that night, carefully calm, when Obi-Wan finally returns to their quarters. Obi-Wan is reading a padd even as he walks in, and doesn’t seem to notice Anakin steering him firmly toward the kitchen table, where a very full plate is waiting for him. 

“Hm? Oh, of course, Anakin, yes, of course,” Obi-Wan answers absently, padd still in hand. It’s hard to tell in the dim evening light, but Anakin thinks there are extra lines at the corner of his yes, and is his skin looking grey? Force, even his hair seems kind of dull, not so much flopping as wilting forward into his face as he sits, like it doesn’t even have the energy to stay in place. 

It’s _awful_. 

“So you’re going to take tomorrow off, right?” He presses, anxiety spiking. Obi-Wan needs to rest up while they can -- he _can’t_ go back out into the field like this. Anakin can’t believe Obi-Wan is being like this! It’s so _irresponsible_. Doesn’t Obi-Wan know that’s how stupid mistakes happen? Doesn’t Obi-Wan know that Anakin needs him to stay safe?? 

“Hm?” Still focused on the padd. 

“Tomorrow! You’re going to take off, right?” 

“-- tomorrow? I suppose I…” Obi-Wan finally looks up from the padd and trails off, seemingly perplexed to find himself in the kitchen. He seems even more perplexed by the plate in front of him, setting down the padd to pick up a fork and poke hesitantly at Anakin’s offering. “... er. This is rather a lot of… ah. What is it exactly?” 

“It’s a Tatooine specialty! My-- I used to have it a lot. As a kid.” Anakin settles back into his own seat, satisfied; ‘I suppose’ is enough, for now. He scoops up a generous forkful and shovels it into his mouth, chewing happily; a little crunch, just like he remembers! 

“... ah.” Across the table, Obi-Wan sighs heavily before lifting a forkful to his mouth slowly. Anakin is totally right; Obi-Wan needs a break. 

\-- 

So of course Anakin catches Obi-Wan trying to sneak out before dawn the following morning. 

“What the -- Anakin?” Obi-Wan asks, sleepy and befuddled, when Anakin pops into his path, triumph mixing with vicious frustration as he notes that Obi-Wan has _put his robes on incorrectly_ \-- the middle tunic is crossed right over left instead of left over right! If there has ever been a clearer sign of an impending breakdown, Anakin doesn’t know it. “What are you--?!!?” 

It really isn’t quite fair -- even taken off guard and not firing on all cylinders, Obi-Wan puts up a decent amount of resistance. But Anakin has him at a significant disadvantage -- namely, that he’s not _on the verge of an exhaustion induced collapse_ , so it’s only takes a few moments of confused manhandling before Anakin manages to herd him back into his room and tip him forward onto the bed. 

“ _Anakin--!_ ” 

Sithspit, his Master really _is_ contrary. Anakin dodges an elbow, struggling to maintain his perch on Obi-Wan’s back as the other man twists, and wonders what the hell he’s supposed to do now. Excellent planning as usual, Skywalker, he thinks bitterly, and then -- spots it. One of Obi-Wan’s date-jime sashes, thrown carelessly, and uncharacteristically, on top of the low bookshelf by the bed. 

A Force tug puts into his hands, and it’s only a few moments of work to wrestle Obi-Wan’s hands up; a few quick loops and two hasty knots are all he has time to manage before Obi-Wan finally throws him off. Still, from his new spot at the foot of the bed, he can’t help the triumphant grin as Obi-Wan goes to sit up and-- can’t. 

“-- _what--?_ ” Obi-Wan twists onto his back, but his arms are, perforce, still stretched above his head, wrists wrapped together and secured to the headboard. He looks irate, tilting his head back to examine what Anakin has done and tugging at his wrists experimentally, before dropping his gaze back to Anakin, face thunderous. 

“You said you were going to take the day off!” Anakin blurts in panic, before his Master can even demand an explanation. Obi-Wan’s mouth is already open to deliver what Anakin is sure would have been a blistering reprimand; but, at this, Obi-Wan pauses, eyebrows furrowing slightly above bright blue eyes, outraged Force presence sliding into confusion. 

“-- and -- you really need-- to-- … take it easy?” Anakin offers, hesitantly. Obi-Wan’s lips thin, and Anakin quails slightly, despite himself. But he-- he _needs_ Obi-Wan to agree. He _can’t_ deal with Obi-Wan going back out into the field like this. What if something happens? What if-- “ _Master_ \--” He manages, throat tight, and Obi-Wan, abruptly, tries to sit up again, only to be caught short by the sash, as though he’d forgotten it was there. His lips press together again, bloodless, and Anakin hunches in on himself slightly without meaning to, shoulders rising up around his ears as he realizes how badly he’s fucked this up, gaze dropping to the comforter. 

“-- so you decided to _tie me to the bed?_ ” His Master demands, after a few moments, polished voice just slightly incredulous, and Anakin’s shoulders hitch a little further. 

“... yes? I mean, I didn’t -- _decide_ , exactly? It was just there! And-- at least you don’t can’t be expected to do any paperwork this way. Right?” _Right?_ Even _Obi-Wan_ can’t actually _want_ to do paperwork… can he? 

“Anakin… _somebody_ has to--” 

“But does it have to be you?!” Anakin demands, suddenly furious, and looks up to find Obi-Wan regarding him steadily. “You already do _everything_ \-- you’re on the front, and the Council, and they’re always sending you off on the worst missions -- can’t they do some of their own work?!” 

Obi-Wan is still staring at Anakin like he’s a puzzle that Obi-Wan can’t quite figure out; which is stupid, because Obi-Wan is the smartest person that Anakin knows, and anyway, there isn’t anything _to_ figure out -- Anakin just wants Obi-Wan to take the day off. Anakin frowns and drops his gaze back to the comforter, pushing down a peak of cresting unhappiness, and picks at a free thread. May he _will_ go to Padme’s, after all, even though she’s not there; Obi-Wan probably isn’t going to want Anakin around after he’s done yelling at him. 

A sudden huff of laughter takes Anakin by surprise, a sudden, sharp spike of amusement spilling out through the Force. and he looks up in time to see Obi-Wan collapse back onto the bed, eyes cast toward the ceiling in apparent incredulity. 

“... Master?” Anakin asks cautiously, confused. 

“What?” Obi-Wan asks; he sounds irritated and amused, a combination with which Anakin is unfortunately familiar. Better than angry, but... 

“... what are you doing?” Anakin can’t help but ask, and Obi-Wan snorts out a short laugh, sounding, impossibly, fond. 

“What does it look like, my young padawn? _Nothing_.” Obi-Wan rolls his eyes at the ceiling, then shakes his bound wrists and cranes his head to give Anakin a significant look. “After all, I’m _all. tied. up_.” 

Oh. 

“... I _do_ trust that you had a plan, Anakin, when you decided that I needed to take the day off?” 

Oh! 

“Yes, Master! I mean-- yes, I did! I do!” Anakin assures, hastily, sliding off the bed and edging toward the bedroom door quickly; he can feel the disbelieving smile spreading over his face, and he doesn’t want a lecture. He’s got breakfast to make! 

\-- 

Anakin spends all day hand feeding Obi-Wan tea and treats and is over the moon. Obi-Wan takes it all with a long-suffering, slightly amused air; though it’s obvious that he’s actually quite touched when Anakin brings in the tray of carefully brewed, small cups of specialty tea samples that he’d been saving for Obi-Wan’s next Name Day, eyes going momentarily wide before directing an astonished, uncomplicated smile up at Anakin that, honestly, leaves Anakin a little shaky. It’s just -- been a while since Obi-Wan looked like that, much less at _Anakin_. 

Later, Anakin finds one of Obi-Wan’s terrifically boring treatises and reads it to him, perched carefully next to Obi-Wan on the bed. He unties Obi-Wan’s wrists after Obi-Wan falls asleep (it doesn’t take long; Anakin isn’t sure if it’s sleep deprivation or the treatise -- it really is just that boring) but Anakin might, possibly, spend the next few hours watching him sleep, happy and grounded in a way he hasn’t been in a long time. 

Obi-Wan looks better than he has in months when he wakes slowly a few hours later, hazy and blurred but happy through the Force, directing a soft smile up at Anakin like he’s not surprised at all to find him still there, like he’s glad Anakin is still there, so unexpected that Anakin smiles back without meaning to, without censoring it, and it’s too happy, too affectionate, too attached and he knows Obi-Wan is going to chide him, knows he shouldn’t, but -- 

Obi-Wan doesn’t. Doesn’t frown, doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even seem to realize that Anakin has done anything wrong at all. Just continues to smile softly, thoughts still buzzing in muted, sleepy contentment, and rolls a little, tucking himself against Anakin’s side, eyes drifting closed again slowly.


End file.
